Vaba Var!
by EnglishPatient
Summary: A vampire Khajiit wanders into Skyrim with his dog and horse expecting another boring decade. He gets more than he expected when a young Nord woman refuses to leave his side, and a Daedric Prince from the story books becomes involved in his actions. He struggles to hold on to his upbringing and his emotions as secrets are revealed on a dangerous journey.
1. Sour Beginning

Foreword: I do not own TES Lore, Khajiiti Lore and naming conventions, or the content provided by the mods installed on the playthrough that inspired this. I do not own TES characters or mod-added characters. Jori, Nene, M'Harji, S'Rukoh and S'Rukoh's mother (by mention only) are my own.

Installed mods that might change how this is written/what is true in this universe are:

I DO NOT have any DLCs.  
Convenient Horses and Convenient Herding  
Skyrim Monster Mod  
Automatic Variants  
Immersive Armors, Immersive Weapons, JaySuS Swords, Weapons of the Third Era, etc etc a few other lore-friendly leveled-list mods w/ weps n armor.  
Apocalypse Spells, Duel - Combat Realism, and Skyrim Perk Enhancements and Rebalanced Gameplay  
Brehanin's Better Vampirism  
Ultimate Follower Overhaul, the Fair Khajiit Companion, and the Akhaziir companion.  
Millview house and Warlord Stockade.  
Multiple Marriages, etc.

Vampires must breathe and consume blood of living or recently dead men, mer, and beastfolk. Animal blood is weaker, but may also work. Vampires do not have to eat or drink, but water helps their body process blood. Vampires regenerate from wounds very quickly by using up blood. They cannot regenerate or re-attach severed body parts. Vampires have to feed fairly regularly. A young vampire needs to feed nightly or every few nights. An older vampire needs to feed a few times a week. An ancient vampire may only need to feed once or twice a month. The older a vampire is, the more refined and efficient their systems are. A vampire behaves irrationally and may face hallucinations, delusions, and an inability to perform feats of strength or use magic when hungry. They also become impulsive and their higher functions may slow down or stop altogether. Vampires are not born into covens and cannot recognize one another innately. Undead and animals are not inherently subservient to vampires, but may be less aggressive toward them. Vampires are immune to disease and poison, but vulnerable to fire, silver, and certain blessed weapons or objects.  
For reference: Queer and gender diverse people exist. They're not rare in Skyrim just like they aren't rare in the real world. Thankfully, I can pretend that they don't get murdered, robbed, and abused on a daily basis in Skyrim, so that's how my fic is written. Characters are written with singular They/Them/Their pronouns until they become important/have a name or gender revealed. In fact... some important characters may even use they/them/their pronouns, themselves!

That about ends the author's note for this chapter. Author's notes will be used to explain things that are different from Vanilla or that need elaboration ooc on a chapter-by-chapter basis. Reviews are highly appreciated. I'm in a writing mood, so this may be updated again soon.

* * *

S'Rukoh was giddy. He hadn't been this happy in months. His russet fur and long red hair was matted with travel, and his bright pink eyes couldn't seem to decide what they should rest on. Weariness and fatigue, the high of bloodlust and wanderlust mixed, filled his bones. His tiny, curly-haired dog, Nene, sat before him on the saddle, which sat atop a big brown horse. Nene's gaze was fixed over the creamy medicine cap of the horse, M'Harji, while the Cathay's was anywhere but.

Trees and large stones sailed past as S'Rukoh urged M'Harji down a slight incline. It was the Thirteenth of Last Seed. They'd spent the last week passing the mountains between Cyrodiil and The Rift of Skyrim. S'Rukoh's cold, bloodless body had done little to warm poor Nene, and the brightness of the sun on the snow had done as much as days without blood to drive him to madness. The trio had only been in the lowlands of The Rift for a day or so, and had narrowly avoided roads and ruins while searching for a small settlement to visit, far west of Riften. S'Rukoh had been crying and starved of blood for several days, and was desperate to feed with as little fuss as possible. He'd sworn to Nene several times that this was the longest he'd ever been without blood.

M'Harji had been carrying S'Rukoh and Nene for almost five years—they'd traveled through Black Marsh, Morrowind, and Cyrodiil together. S'Rukoh's nomadic heritage could not possibly have accounted for his insatiable need to travel. The longest he'd ever spent in a place was his twenty years as a mortal, with his family in northern Elweyr. He proudly added his clan's embroidery patterns at the seams of his heavy armor, on M'Harji's tack, and on all of his jewelry and papers. He remembered every story his Clan Mother had ever told, and every name of every kitten that had been born in his time there. The few times he'd settled for a while, in the home of a friend or within a city, he had made house like his clan had made house: with artistry and pride, and always with many secrets. With such attachment to the sands and the Khajiit of his homeland, sometimes even S'Rukoh was surprised with how rapidly he had wandered from his home.

As the sun finally rose, S'Rukoh dismounted and led M'Harji to the side of a small pond. He searched for his ragged map in a saddlebag, and was disappointed to find it had been lost scaling the mountains. He shrugged at Nene and observed the surroundings. A tower stretched up behind him, and trees before him. He frowned and focused his ears forward, to hear a distant chiming.

S'Rukoh cried out and sprinted through the trees. M'Harji and Nene followed. He'd heard Nirnroot before, and he almost thought he could see it glowing through the brush. It grew nearer and nearer, until he burst through a bush and nearly fell through a fence. He stood in awe, shocked by row after row of Nirnroot. He leaned over the fence and reached tentatively for one of the plants.

"Hey! Stop, there!" His head snapped up to look at the armored Nord that approached him. "Leave those be, cat. They don't belong to you," S'Rukoh's cheery mood seemed to drop to the ground and roll away, and he began weeping silently out of stress and agitation. The figure moved through the garden and stopped a few feet away on the other side of the fence. They eyed him with suspicion and disgust—he could smell it in their blood. They stepped up to the fence and put a provocative arm on S'Rukoh's shoulder, "Where's your caravan? It must be nearby, unless they've taken to dumping their unwanted kittens on Nord doorsteps."

He looked up at the Nord with wet eyes and a rushed apology before he lurched forward and snapped his teeth around their neck. He pulled them over the fence and trapped himself under their body as somebody nearby shrieked. In a confused, bloody mess, S'Rukoh scrambled out from underneath the injured soldier and dashed in whatever direction his weak legs would take him. He fell through a stream and down a few hills before he finally stopped, dizzy, beside a large tree.

When next he felt well enough to look up, his eyes met with those of an imposing Imperial soldier. His bloodied muzzle then met the soldier's fist, and the sunrise faded to darkness, and then into the inside of a burlap hood.

* * *

He woke to the bright sun and a rough wooden seat at his back. A voice swam in and out of his awareness, and the lack of sensation in his body reminded him of the time a traveler had convinced him that skooma was just as good as moon sugar. He thought he could hear the sound of a forge to his right, and looked up at the sky. The sun hurt his eyes, but he did his best to determine where north was by the sun's position and the shadow of the wagon on the ground. The horse was pointed east, and the forge was to the west. An imperial soldier, a Nord that couldn't have been older than seventeen, sat next to him in the wagon and shook S'Rukoh gently. They pressed their fingers to their lips in an attempt to keep the Khajiit quiet, and silently offered him a ladle of water.

S'Rukoh apprehensively took the water and drank, his eyes never leaving those of the soldier. They gave the Khajiit an apologetic half smile, and whispered, "I'm really sorry, but we can't allow anybody to interfere with what's going on right now. General Tullius has a plan." S'Rukoh quickly searched the area with his eyes, and the Nord saw, "He's not here right now. They're capturing Ulfric Stormcloak! It isn't that far from here. It's such a great trap," they smiled broadly and sighed, "I wish I'd though of it. Then maybe I'd get a promotion and wouldn't have to watch prisoners... No offense!"

"Khajiit is not a prisoner. S'Rukoh did nothing wrong."

The Nord smiled sadly and gave S'Rukoh a pat on the shoulder. "I'm sorry, S'Rukoh, but we went through your things and didn't find any papers that would allow you through the border. We also found your journal... the others wanted to kill you on sight for vampirism... I saw the blood, but I wanted to see if you were a good person so I begged them not to." They held their hands up in front of their chest when S'Rukoh glared at them. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sure they'll let you go if we find the stormcloaks. It's not like we can fit everybody in this wagon, anyway." They looked down sadly. "My name is Jori. I'm from Helgen. I just want you to know that I do think you're a good person. I can help you find your dog, when this is over, if you want. I read about your adventures."

S'Rukoh silently measured up Jori with his eyes. "Jori looks very young. They are not afraid to travel with vampire, with 'cat?'"

Jori giggled quickly, "Yea, I'm only sixteen. My dad wanted me to go get married and be a good housewife, but I wanted to fight and learn skills and go on adventures like the people in the books." She pulled her sword out of its sheath and pointed to the name carved into it, "And the people in the books always have a weapon with a name, so I named mine Sun's Dusk, because it is my favorite month."

"This one's mother was named M'Neji. Khajiit named his first bow M'Neji after he left home. It was burned by vampires in Valenwood. S'Rukoh was burned by vampires in Valenwood."

Jori frowned and patted S'Rukoh's arm again. "Aw. I'm sorry. Does it... hurt to be a vampire? Like, you've been sitting in the sun all morning and you look okay. How old are you? Your journal doesn't have any years in it."

"S'Rukoh is sixty years old, he is not a kitten anymore. It does not hurt. The sun makes my eyes water, it is so bright. Sometimes it hurts very much when Khajiit hungers, and it becomes very hard to think and remember things, and to make good decisions. Sometimes Khajiit hurts people, and does not remember afterwards. It is sad. Where is Helgen? S'Rukoh is from Elsweyr, the great deserts. His clan is many hundreds of years old."

Jori peered over the back of the horse, as though checking if the coast was clear. She pulled out a map and pointed to a point between mountains. S'Rukoh noticed a place near the border of the Rift, called Darkwater Crossing, which had an 'x' on it. "It's right there. You have to go through Helgen to get to most anywhere in Skyrim. I don't know how old the settlement is." She smiled and put the map away, "I wouldn't make it in Elsweyr. It's always cold in Skyrim. I'd fry in the desert!" Her smile faded and she looked at him seriously. "I guess we'll just have to keep you fed, somehow. At least it doesn't hurt, right? I hope we drop you off in Ivarstead or something. We're supposed to take the Stormcloaks through Helgen then back to Solitude for execution. I wouldn't want you to have to sit in some dumpy wagon with a bunch of traitors to the empire."

"S'Rukoh thinks you are not supposed to say this to S'Rukoh, since Khajiit is a prisoner. Or show him map. What if he runs?"

"I won't say a word. I'd lie and say you overpowered me and ran away. If you do want to run, all of your things are in the chest under the driver's seat."

"You betraying us, Jori? I should've known. Legion ain't no place for a teenage girl." A soldier with blood on their face approached the side of the wagon.

"No! I swear...!" Jori was interupted when the soldier brutally punched her in the face with their gauntlet. Jori slumped into the wagon and the soldier then pulled the sack back over S'Rukoh's head.

S'Rukoh woke up in the back of a wagon. He felt somebody else's body against his own, and feet near his paws. His arms were bound, and he looked around the wagon. Jori was wedged between himself and a haggard blond Nord with a gag. Across from the gagged Nord was a scruffy person in rags. Next to the ragged person was another blond Nord, in a uniform. Jori was out cold, but the others were awake and talking. S'Rukoh noticed that Jori was leaning on the gagged Nord, and used his teeth to pull Jori toward himself by her shirt. He felt responsible for the young woman, and tears burned in his eyes at the situation he'd gotten her into. Another wagon was before theirs on the road, a steep incline. They were surrounded by imperial soldiers. The other prisoners talked amongst themselves, and even to him, but he ignored them.

He rocked nervously back and forth, and his tail whipped about. In panic, his eyes and ears focused on every little sound. He saw the vague outline of a Suthay on a horse passing them. His cold body seemed to get even colder as the wagons passed below a gate, and into a walled town. In his peripheral vision, he saw the Nord across from him name the place, his lips forming the word, "Helgen."

S'Rukoh panicked himself into a stupor and lost sight of his surroundings. Jori butted her head against his shoulder to get his attention. He looked over to see her bloody nose and sad smile. She whispered to him, "I don't think we are going to Solitude. I overheard the General and some soldiers talking. We're all being executed in Helgen." She sobbed and the ragged person asked why she was crying, yelling and making a show. The ungagged Nord insisted he be quiet. "I don't want my mom to see me. I don't want her to see me die."

"Khajiit will find a way to escape. Nobody has to die." S'Rukoh and Jori started crying, and the Nord across from them became more interested in them than what he had been saying about Helgen.

The wagon shuddered to halt and and the ragged person, who said they were Lokir, demanded to be let free. Ralof, the ungagged Nord, solemnly said that they were all siblings in death. Jori and S'Rukoh were the last off the wagon. The soldiers took Jori and Ulfric out of the crowd first, and then processed the others. Lokir ran, and was slain, and Ralof looked to S'Rukoh with the sadness of doubt in his eyes. Symbolism was lost on the Khajiit.

S'Rukoh did not answer when the soldier asked his name, and merely sneered and walked to stand beside Jori at the chopping block. His eyes chased every shadow and examined every soldier. He did not see a way out, and bristled in defeat when he was called to the block.


	2. Exiting Helgen

Author note: Elder Scrolls lore, events, and characters do not belong to me. Jori and S'Rukoh do, however.

* * *

S'Rukoh locked his eyes onto those of the executioner. 'Where could Khajiit run?' he asked himself, 'Where must Khajiit jump?' In those eyes he saw a dead end, like every other dead end on the street. A few seconds stretched on like a lifetime as he looked over the other prisoners. Ulfric stared at him. Ralof bowed his head in respect. Jori cried and bared her teeth, her wild eyes full of desperation.

S'Rukoh set his head on the bloody block. It warmed his face, and he wondered if he would survive the axe if he lapped up all the blood to strengthen himself. The sun burned into his eyes as he looked up and waited. He could feel his dead heart pulsing, and every breath of air seemed colder than the last. The axe moved up slowly. He saw the beads of sweat on the executioner's wrists. Another few seconds oozed past, and the axe was held above the executioner's head. The Khajiit thought of warm sands, and closed his eyes.

A blast of hot air moved over S'Rukoh, and his eyes flashed open as Nirni rumbled below him. A winged beast, the size of a fat senche-raht and scaled like the darkest Argonian, perched on the tower behind the executioner. The beast spoke, and a storm fell over Helgen. The town exploded in confusion, with people yelling and rushing about. S'Rukoh was jolted off the block and rolled to his feet. He looked around quickly to find Jori.

Jori was being herded by Ralof into a nearby tower. He followed quickly and threw himself against the wall, terrified. As he looked around the room, he noticed the shadows twisting and growing darker. A soldier up the stairs yelled "Dragon!" and S'Rukoh rushed to investigate. He was thrown down the stairs by the beast forcing its head through the stone wall of the tower.

The world became a flash as S'Rukoh jumped out the window and hurled himself through the ruined town. He was urged onward by the thud of footsteps behind him and Jori's pained breathing. The sun blinded the Khajiit, and his whiskers desperately reported every change in air current and pressure in an attempt to guide him to safety. He rushed through courtyards and between buildings, and darted past everyone that tried to speak to him. When Jori announced that they had reached the keep, S'Rukoh drug her through the first door he could find, and slumped on the floor.

The two panted in silence, bodies against the cold stone floor in an attempt to cool and calm down. Jori gasped and scrambled against the wall when Ralof shoved the door open and threw himself inside. He seemed surprised to the see the two in there, and approached quickly. S'Rukoh rolled onto his feet as Ralof cut Jori's binds. He warily approached the Nord and offered his own wrists. Ralof smiled sadly and freed him, looking toward the dead Stormcloak against the wall. Ralof prompted Jori to take the corpse's armor as the Khajiit and the Stormcloak examined the doors in the room.

S'Rukoh stopped and stared down the hallway as Ralof examined the other door. "Khajiit hears clanking of armor."

"Imperial soldiers! Let's surprise them." When Ralof hid behind the door frame, Jori and S'Rukoh took similar action.

S'Rukoh took a moment to stew on the irony of Jori attacking her superior officers as two Imperial soldiers opened the gate. He even watched her white knuckles on the axe as the three sprung into action and attacked. She looked a bit upset, but that might have just been the complete turn-around her life had taken in the last few days, he thought. The Khajiit peeled the heavy armor off of the fallen soldier and stepped into it. It wasn't anywhere near as nice as what he'd made, himself, and been wearing prior to his capture, but it was better than being naked. He didn't see a bow, and left the swords on the bodies. He figured that his claws would do until he could get hold of a good bow.

The Nord and Khajiit followed Ralof through the keep, grabbing anything that looked like it would be useful, and changing gear several times through the journey. Jori was immensely frightened, and expressed that she'd never been so intimidated inside Imperial-built halls, before, and never wanted to be this scared ever again. Ralof didn't seem to understand that Jori had been a member of the legion. He tried his best to be calm and reassuring, and said that all good Nords can sometimes trust in something that isn't really true or good. S'Rukoh almost cackled at him when he listed "Deadra worship" as an example, but he held his tongue and raised his face as though he were looking at the moons incredulously. Jori and Ralof tended to most of the combat. S'Rukoh didn't understand why they rushed in, instead of taking their time and going unnoticed.  
As the keep transitioned into a cave system, Jori fell back to walk next to the Khajiit. When Ralof chided her, she said she'd rather stand next to the guy that can see in the dark so she doesn't accidentally get hit in a fight, and pointed out that he'd hit her several times already. Ralof laughed and moved ahead while S'Rukoh scavenged for mushrooms near the water.

"Do you get this Nord?" Jori whispered to the Cathay, "He keeps going on and on about Ulfric Stormcloak and how great he is. It kinda makes me sick."

S'Rukoh stood up after bending over for some plants and gold coins. "It is what he believes. Khajiit would be excited if he got to meet somebody he really agreed with, too. Khajiit would talk about Dro'Neji or Ahnissi or famous Dariit all the time if he got to actually see them. Maybe Jori would talk about General Tullius if he hadn't tried to have her executed earlier."

"Maybe Jori would this that and whatever," She scoffed and started walking back to the path,"I'm not really fond of today's leadership... I'm into the glory days of the empire! Fighting alongside a Septim, securing keeps and aiding citizens!" She waited for S'Rukoh to catch up. "I'm so tired of having to follow petty thieves and interrogating Stormcloaks. I think we should all be working together to rout the Thalmor."

S'Rukoh shrugged and stuffed the plants into a backpack he had picked up earlier. "S'Rukoh does not like Thalmor... but S'Rukoh also does not like Empire. Khajiit feels that land and people should belong to themselves, and that Imperial empire should not walk onto other people's sands and try to control them. Khajiit remembers seeing Thalmor in trade city, and he saw the things they did to poor Khajiit. They lied about Ja-Kha'Jay, they lied about helping Khajiit, and they lied about so many other things. Khajiit does not hate Imperials or Nords or High Elves, but S'Rukoh is very, very tired of Empire, of Thalmor, and may soon become very tired of Stormcloaks." Jori stared at him. He spoke quickly, "S'Rukoh thinks that clans should decide what happens to them, not just melt into larger clan because larger clan says it is 'easy and for greater good!' When Khajiit learned as kitten about Thalmor, S'Rukoh thought Empire should have tried harder. They tried, though, S'Rukoh gives them that. Without Empire, maybe all clans would be in great danger, or even dead. S'Rukoh has become very... confused about how he feels about this, because he used to hate Empire very much."

Jori looked at her feet as she walked, and seemed caught in thought. The two met up with Ralof and crouched with him behind a stone. He made them aware of a bear nearby. S'Rukoh laughed quietly and suggested they follow him as he walked quietly against the wall. Natural dangers seemed very nonthreatening to the Khajiit, whom had spent many of his travels in wilderness, and had even learned from Bosmer a few tricks to avoid gaining the aggression of animals. The Cathay quietly lead them through spiders and other threats, stopping to pick up pelts and plants along the way. Jori remained quiet, but Ralof would occasionally curse, exclaim, or start talking. Ralof was talking about sawmills and rivers in Skyrim when they finally crawled through a crevice and exited the cave system. Jori started laughing and ran onto the path, while Ralof ducked behind a stone and pointed to a nearby mountain.

The shadow of the dragon darkened Jori's revelry as it flew overhead and disappeared into the clouds.


	3. Into Riverwood

Author's note: Elder Scrolls lore, events, locations, and people do not belong to me. Feres does not belong to me, but belongs to Darkvalkyr of skyrim nexus. S'Rukoh and Jori belong to me.

* * *

S'Rukoh and Jori stood nervously at the gate to Riverwood. Ralof had walked in purposefully and disappeared down a path to the left. S'Rukoh took off his helmet and frowned. He wasn't sure he was supposed to be here, and he wasn't sure of what he was doing. His hand was still warm from the magic of the Thief stone, and Jori had seemed more than confident in her choice of the Warrior stone. Even with Ralof's instructions and introductions on the path down from Helgen, S'Rukoh wasn't sure how to begin his travels in Skyrim. He'd lost his horse and dog, and every object he'd ever held of value. All he'd been allowed to keep was a little leather talisman that his mother had made, and he was surprised that it hadn't been burnt or hacked off in the struggle to escape the dragon and the legion. To make it worse, he was hungry, tired, and dirty. His body had knit itself back together as efficiently as always, so he wasn't worried about injury. He was, however, worried about what happened next. He took the first step through the gate of Riverwood determined to make the most of the next few days.

A Nord argued with their mother on a nearby porch about whether or not she had seen a dragon flying overhead. The smith clanged and banged at their forge. A chicken scraped at the ground, and a big spotted dog ran circles around a small Nord child. S'Rukoh realized how much he missed Nene as he passed the dog and warily followed the path Ralof had taken. It lead to a sawmill, which was busy with a few Nords and a Bosmer. Ralof called him over, from behind the mill, and Jori ran over to answer first. S'Rukoh caught up to see Ralof and a few other people talking to a child. Ralof introduced his sister Gerdur, who sent the child away and called Hod, her husband. They seemed leery of the red Khajiit and mocked his stolen Imperial armor in an effort to make the serious conversation a bit easier to handle. Ralof recounted the events at Helgen, stressed that he didn't know the motives of the attack, and expressed sorrow over the loss of the town. Gerdur seemed shocked, but offered her home to Ralof, regardless. The Khajiit was planning on where to sleep outside and which citizen to feed on, when Gerdur turned and began asking him about what happened, and offered himself and Jori a place to rest, as well.

"Khajiit is grateful to you, Gerdur, and to Ralof for leading us to safety. What can S'Rukoh do for you? Riverwood is not safe."

"It's no problem, S'Rukoh. My home is open to any friend of my brother." Gerdur looked down, as though considering something. "But you're right. Riverwood isn't safe with that dragon on the loose. We don't even have a wall! I need you, and maybe even your friend, to travel to Whiterun to ask the Jarl for help. Jarl Balgruuf is an honest, good sort, and we need you to ask him to send some soldiers to protect Riverwood."

S'Rukoh nodded and smiled at Gerdur and Hod. "Cathay can do this."

Jori shook Gerdur's hand excitedly. "Thank you so, so much, miss Gerdur. I really don't know how to thank you! I grew up in Helgen! I don't have anywhere to go!" Gerdur put a hand on her shoulder to comfort the overexcited teenager. "Is it okay if I work at your mill? I promise I'll be good."

Gerdur led Jori away, saying she would take her to their house to find a bed and tend to her wounds. Hod nodded at Ralof and S'Rukoh and returned to working at the mill. Ralof turned to the Khajiit "It's alright, cat. We'll lay low for a while. My leg's beat, and I'm a Stormcloak, so I don't think I can go to Whiterun with you." He examined the surroundings. "You look pretty worn and confused. You should stay in town for a few days and get to know some people. You're new in Skyrim, from what I heard, so I'm sure having a town full of friends will help you get back on your feet. I've got an old stash of candies and books around here, somewhere, if you want to see how a real Nord grows up in Riverwood!" Ralof started talking quickly about his childhood, and how there's 'no place to live like Skyrim.'

"Riverwood has a mill, inn, and a little bit of fishing, when it comes to jobs. I'm not sure how good you'd be at inn-work, cat, so you might want to start out chopping wood for Hod, hunting with the Wood Elf, or fishing to feed the village. You look pretty strong, so smithing might interest you. Seek out Alvor if you want to help out." Ralof led S'Rukoh through Riverwood, pointing out various buildings and tools available for public use. There was even a horse with a creamy coat that caught S'Rukoh's interest, though Ralof warned that it belonged to the innkeeper and shouldn't be ridden without permission. "There's also something I think would interest you. Follow me." Ralof walked past the inn and toward the bridge at the far end of town. He pushed aside a bush and revealed a small section of beach along the river. A small fire and a basket of cleaned fish sat on the sand, near a slim rack with uncleaned fish hanging from it. There was a bedroll tucked under the trees in the grass. "See him?"

S'Rukoh watched the water intently, and waited to notice what Ralof was trying to point out. He startled a little bit when a grey, furry head poked out of the water and bobbed toward shore. A Suthay with a silvery coat and black stripes pulled himself out of the river with a salmon in his hands. His ears perked in the direction of the Khajiit and the Nord, and he turned to face them. He pulled a shirt over himself and tried to wring some water out of his pant legs. He approached the two slowly after tying the fish to the rack.

"This Khajiit has been here for a few days, Gerdur said. He's been fishing and selling the meat to nearby towns, but always comes back here. Apparently the innkeeper wouldn't take him." Ralof spoke quietly.

"My name is Feres. It's nice to meet you." Feres held out his hand as he introduced himself to the larger Cathay.

"S'Rukoh greets you, Feres. Khajiit worried he would never see the end of this line of furless faces."

"I know... there's not an awful lot of us here." Feres looked pained, momentarily, and lost track of what he was saying.

"I'm going to leave you two cats alone for a bit. I'll be at Gerdur's if you need me, S'Rukoh." Ralof clapped S'Rukoh's shoulder and walked down the road toward the houses. Feres looked at his retreating back with a rather agitated expression.

"Is there something wrong, Feres? Khajiit worries for you." S'Rukoh eyed Feres closely.

"I've lost something, I'm afraid. An amulet." Feres walked back to his bedroll and sat down with his head in his hands. S'Rukoh followed and crouched in the sand. "It's across the river. It is very, very important. I can't go get it, though."

"S'Rukoh will get it." He jumped up and ran across the bridge before Feres could answer.

S'Rukoh smiled slightly. He was tired, and hunger caused his thoughts to move quickly. He rustled through bushes and looked under stones, his eyes and ears searching for the amulet. It had been a while since he'd seen another Khajiit, and even longer since he'd seen a Suthay outside of Elsweyr or Cyrodiil. He'd seen a few Khajiit in Morrowind, but most were Ohmes or Dagi. He'd even met an Alfiq in Cyrodiil. He simply loved seeing others of his kind in his travels. He frequently refused to feed on the blood of his own kind, and did his best to help Khajiit in need. Sometimes he felt he was very lucky to be Cathay. If he'd been smaller, the vampires in Valenwood may have killed him. If he were larger, even perhaps as Cathay-raht, he may have been too big and wouldn't have been captured. He'd have returned home, and never seen or done many of the things he had in his travels. His thoughts got wrapped up in his clan and his time with them, and he did not notice a very dirty, disgruntled elf stalking toward him in the darkness of the sunset.

"I'll see you made into a rug, cat!" The bandit struck S'Rukoh across the back with a mace, and the Khajiit swept his claws across the legs of his attacker. The bandit fell to his knees, and then fell silent as S'Rukoh sunk his teeth into their throat. S'Rukoh noticed the amulet across the bandit's neck and pulled it off. He quickly went through their pockets, happy to have fed and found the amulet. He thought for a moment before he decided to take the blue clothing in the bandit's backpack. They wouldn't need it, certainly, and S'Rukoh needed something to embroider in the next week or so.

He met Feres at the other side of the bridge and silently handed him his amulet. He accepted it gladly, and held it in his hand for a while. "I recognize you from somewhere."

"S'Rukoh thinks he has seen your face, as well."

"Were you in Helgen recently?"

"...Yes. S'Rukoh was at Helgen when it was attacked."

"I'm fairly certain that I was leaving Helgen right before that happened. I don't remember what I was doing there, or why I was leaving. I just... came here. I've had these strange gaps in my memory for a while, now."

"Khajiit finds this curious. S'Rukoh will help in any way he can."

"Thanks. I've been really confused recently. Maybe having my amulet back will help. I'm going to try to go to Whiterun, soon."

"Cathay is going to Whiterun, also. Will Suthay allow S'Rukoh to accompany him, when he goes?"

Feres stopped and thought for a bit before he looped the amulet over his head. He was visibly relieved. "I'll consider your offer. How long will you be in Riverwood before you go to Whiterun?"

"Khajiit thinks he will work in Riverwood for a week or so. Ralof said it was seventeenth of Last Seed. S'Rukoh thinks this is a good time to work. Food will be plentiful. Perhaps Whiterun will be expensive. S'Rukoh will work hard, that he may be able to support himself in Whiterun." He blinked, "Does Feres know where S'Rukoh might find a sewing needle and some thread?"

"You might want to ask Sven's mother, Hilde. Or Sigrid. Hilde... doesn't like Khajiit, so you might want to ask Sigrid first." Feres wrung his hands in thought. "I'll wait for you, if you want to go to Whiterun together. I'll just keep fishing and working around town." He looked up at S'Rukoh. "Though if I'm going to be here for very long, would you be so kind as to have a word with Delphine, at the inn? I'd rather not spend another week out here, but I don't remember what I did to get Delphine mad enough to kick me out."

S'Rukoh smiled and nodded. He handed Feres a small gem he'd found in the keep at Helgen and explained that it was to pay for the room once he'd spoken with the innkeeper. Feres sat down at his bedroll and pulled a book out of a bag hidden in the bushes. S'Rukoh made his way down the road and into the inn, intent on helping his new friend as quickly as possible.


	4. Working Cats

Author's note: Elder Scrolls lore, events, locations, and people do not belong to me. Feres belongs to Darkvalkyr of Skyrim Nexus. Jori, S'Rukoh, and Dro'Neji belong to me. Sven's going to deviate a bit from canon. Just because I don't like flat characters.

* * *

Feres sat between S'Rukoh and Jori at a bench inside the Sleeping Giant Inn. Jori was eating a bowl of stew and fried potatoes, while Feres and S'Rukoh faced the fire. The Suthay watched the larger Khajiit sewing and embroidering with interest. S'Rukoh had plied Delphine with some small jewels and a knife he'd made with Alvor, and Feres was allowed back in the inn. Delphine still watched the two, with an expression of mild suspicion, as they huddled over the coarse fabric and talked about the patterns S'Rukoh was making.

"Why's that Khajiit got wings?" Feres pointed to a figure near the hemline of the tunic, a silvery thread against blue, surrounded by other Khajiit figures in duller colors.

"First Clan Mother of S'Rukoh's clan. Hundreds of years ago, Dro'Hasara led the clan North from the jungles and into the blessed deserts. The Ja-Kha'Jay was in her eye, and the mercy of S'rendarr in her tongue. Dro'Hasara kept and found many secrets in the desert, and her clan prospered and had many litters of kittens and many walks across the sands. There is a legend that Dro'Hasara did not die, but used the magic of the moons and the favor of Mara and S'rendarr to give herself wings, to fly above the clan and always watch over them. Since she flew, and did not climb, her hands were always open to shower gifts upon her people." He smiled at Feres as he tied a knot in a thread and bit the excess off.

"That sounds like bunk to me. What's a cat need wings for?" Jori said through a mouth full of potatoes.

"How can Dro'Hasara give moon sugar with full hands?" Feres seemed to stiffen at the mention of moon sugar, and Jori laughed and apologized.

"Are there any songs about that story?" A blond Nord with a lute asked from across the room.

"Let it be, Sven, you already perform enough 'quality music.'" Delphine warned.

"S'Rukoh knows many songs. But Nord cannot sing them, the songs are in Tana'agra'iss."

"I'll pay you to teach me!"

"S'Rukoh will not," he put emphasis on the next word, "sell," he was visibly offended and had frozen mid-stitch, "the words of the Khajiit to Sven. They belong to those who walk the sands. Sven has Common tongue that he can sing in."

Sven huffed and sat back in his chair. Jori looked over her shoulder with interest before saying, "Divines, I thought that was going to turn into a fight for a second there."

Feres watched what was going on with a keen eye before touching S'Rukoh's arm to prompt him to begin embroidering again.

"Today is Eighteenth Last Seed. S'Rukoh needs to finish this soon. Do Feres and Jori think this pattern looks complete?"

"Jori don't think squat," she answered lazily.

S'Rukoh looked to Feres and offered the tunic to him for inspection. Feres took it, almost awkwardly, and turned it about in his hands. The sleeves and the hemline had the most detailed patterns and figures, while the neck, chest, and back were mostly just shapes and lines in silvers, blues, and browns. There were several oxen or camel, Feres couldn't tell which, on the hem, and the moons, Masser and Secunda, above and to either side of the figure of Dro'Hasara. He felt that the figures of the Khajiit, what he assumed to be representations of the Cathay's clan, to be the most interesting. They came in as many shapes as Khajiit come in, and as many colors as S'Rukoh had in thread. Feres nodded quietly and handed the article back to S'Rukoh, who quickly pulled the tunic over his head and adjusted his amulet.

Jori finished her food as Sven got up to leave. She jumped, spilling spoons on the floor, and followed him, calling his name, and ran out the door. They seemed to stop just outside, and S'Rukoh could hear snippets of their conversation.

"So... what are we doing today?" Feres asked slowly.

"Ralof promised S'Rukoh some books. And some candy, but Khajiit is most interested in books. Ralof said that some books were about Khajiit! S'Rukoh hopes he means they were written by Khajiit, and not about Khajiit but written by Imperial scholars. Sometimes S'Rukoh thinks they should have just asked about Khajiit instead of 'observing' like clans are packs of wild animals." He stood and helped Feres off the bench. "Ralof said he would be at mill today. Maybe S'Rukoh and Feres can chop wood while reading? Always good to finish many things quickly."

Feres followed as S'Rukoh left the inn and passed Jori and Sven sitting on the porch and passing the lute back and forth. S'Rukoh wondered what they were talking about, but respected their privacy. He assumed it was just 'Nord stuff,' and not any very good secrets that Khajiit would like to know. They walked quickly through town, and S'Rukoh even skipped as he crossed the bridge to the mill. He called out for Ralof.

"Up here, red cat!" He called down from the saw, where he was loading another log.

"S'Rukoh has come to ask about the books, and also about how much work there is to be done at the mill, today."

"They're in a chest, actually, just over there behind that stump. It's under a layer of sand, Be gentle with them. Mostly just cutting and chopping, today. Hod's a bit sick." He pulled a lever and the log was carried through the saw. He yelled over the noise of wood being cut, "There's also some, eh... dirtier kinds of writing that you should either leave there or get rid of. I'm pretty sure Lucan won't buy some of what I have in there."

The two Khajiit searched the beach at leisure. They chatted idly about the fish, the clouds, the cold. S'Rukoh knelt to dust off the top of the chest, a plain ceramic piece that took a bit of work to lift. He pulled it out of its pit, and a mix of sand and water rushed in to replace it.

"How long do you think this has been here?"

"Ralof told S'Rukoh that he had made this chest with Hod and Alvor when he had left Riverwood for the first time. He said it had been a few years. Khajiit thinks it has not been touched much. This is good."

Feres and S'Rukoh settled onto a stump with the chest between them. Feres opened it gently and ran his fingers over the markings on the wood that bordered the lip of the lid. "Sure is fancy. Do you think we should clean it up for him and give it back, when we are done?"

"S'Rukoh thinks this is a good thing to do." The Cathay gently removed a few books from the chest. He examined them carefully, and held them with great respect. Feres pulled a few copper rings and a rather risque drawing of a Dunmer out of the chest. He snorted and put the drawing back as quickly as possible.

"S'Rukoh thinks he knows why the tradesman Lucan would not purchase these goods, now." Feres just laughed in response and held his face in his hand for a bit.

By the time S'Rukoh had pulled the preserves out of the bottom of the chest, Feres was laying on his back and had read though a few books and was engrossed in an old tome about acceptable use of magicka in the workplaces of Vvardenfell. S'Rukoh had organized most of the books by age and subject, and set aside the ones he was most interested in. Amongst them were two volumes of Dro'Neji's immense biography, some books on Sheggorath and the Shivering Isles, and a few recipe books. Feres put down his book and rolled onto his belly to look at S'Rukoh's piles. He picked up a tome titled "Myths of Sheogorath" and flicked through it.

"Well that's creepy. I just flicked past a passage that described tearing somebody's body up to make instruments."

S'Rukoh grimaced and made a face. "Khajiit doesn't believe you. Let him see." He reached for the book and scanned through. "Oh. S'Rukoh sees. He also hopes this myth was not ever true."

Feres jumped as Sven walked around the side of the mill and leaned against a tree. His only greeting was a quiet, "Hey."

The two Khajiit greeted the Nord in unison and closed their books.


	5. 5, part 12

Author's note: Sorry it is so short... and so late. The holidays have been rough, and very long. I whipped this up with the intent of finishing a full chapter... so here is the first half of chapter five until I can get the rest finished. I don't own any Elder Scrolls people, locations, events, or lore. Feres belongs to DarkValkyr on skyrim nexus. Jori and S'Rukoh belong to me.

* * *

"Can I, uh, could I talk to you alone, S'Rukoh?"

"Whatever Sven says may be heard by littermate Feres as well."

"I'm not sure if you know how serious this is, Khajiit."

S'Rukoh crossed his arms over his chest. "Nord doesn't seem to know how serious S'Rukoh is."

Feres giggled slightly and stacked some books, but stopped and gasped when Sven spoke. "I've heard around town that you were there for the dragon attack in Helgen."

The Cathay weighed his next words before he answered. "This one was in Helgen at the time of the attack, yes."

Sven advanced quickly and crouched in front of S'Rukoh. "Are you sure? It can't be! My mother saw it flying toward the mountains. Do you know what this means for Riverwood? Did it look... hungry?"

Feres spoke up next, quietly at first. "S'Rukoh talked to me a bit about what happened. He said he wasn't really comfortable recounting it because it was so recent, and so raw. He said that it seemed that the dragon was doing its best to make it difficult to escape, and committing general destructive acts instead of chasing down individuals."

"Khajiit does not think it will come for Riverwood. S'Rukoh hopes it got what it wanted at Helgen and will keep its damned head out of other places." He stood quickly and fiddled with his pockets, "Only way S'Rukoh saw to escape was destroyed. Nothing stolen. No horses eaten, that Khajiit saw. Keep was left mostly intact, except escape route. Khajiit noticed, though, that dragon seemed to follow him as he fled. When Khajiit went around corner, there was dragon. When Khajiit entered keep, there was dragon. S'Rukoh was not with General Tullius or Ulfric Stormcloak, so maybe dragon was not there to destroy those people? Can dragons think? Do they have motives?"

Feres curled his tail around himself and Sven took S'Rukoh's spot on the stump. The red Khajiit started pacing at the shore, remembering as many stories about dragons as he possibly could. There weren't many, he admitted to himself, he was not a scholar of Nordic histories... or at least not yet. With how real some of them had just been proven to be, he thought that he might just have to better acquaint himself with them.

Sven started panicking. "What are we going to do? We don't have a wall! We don't have guards! There's hardly anybody here fit to pick up a sword."

S'Rukoh snorted, "Walls did not look very helpful at Helgen. They got pulled down onto the people."

Sven stood up and walked quickly toward S'Rukoh. "C'mon, Khajiit, you've got to have something up your sleeve. You're the tricky people, right? They write entire sagas about the cleverness of the Khajiit! What are we going to do?"

The Cathay raised his hands and backed up till his heels met the water. His ears perked at a distant sound. "Khajiit thinks we should listen, and wait."

"Why that's the stupidest thing I've heard-"

"Sven!" Jori sprinted around the corner of the mill, yelling quickly. "Sven you're in a hell of a lot of trouble and I'm really, really sorry I messed up the job but can I still have some pocket gold?"

Sven turned on Jori, still red-faced from the previous conversation, "We'll talk about this later, Jori!"

"Woah there, pretty boy, what's your deal? I told you I'd be back when I was done!"

S'Rukoh took this chance to completely lose Sven's focus. "Yes, Sven, what was job given to Jori?" People were yelling from somewhere in-town.

"He wanted me to give this secret love letter to Camilla, Lucan's sister, but what he didn't tell me was that it was full of some horse-shit intended to make Faendal look bad! So Faendal gave me a second love letter and told me to give that to Camilla, instead of the bad note. But... I accidentally folded them one into the other and gave them both to Camilla! And it turned out they were both horse-shit! So Camilla got really angry and started yelling at Faendal because he followed me into the shop, and then Sven's mom started yelling at Faendal, too, and then Faendal started yelling about Sven. And now everybody is yelling and I feel really stupid because I don't know what is going on and I messed up the job but I'm BROKE and I was going to get a FISHING ROD with the money from THIS JOB but I can't because I MESSED IT ALL UP and now everybody is mad."

Feres stood up and walked to the side of the mill to watch what was going on in town. Sven seemed to calm down long enough to touch Jori's shoulder and assure her that nobody was mad at her, and it was going to be okay. He then started laughing. It was a deep belly-laugh, and he even started tearing up. Jori asked what was so funny, while S'Rukoh stood beside Feres to watch what seemed to be a small shouting match going on next to the forge.


End file.
